


Please Just Be My Friend Again

by tillyenna



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Drabbles, Fluff and Angst, Love Confession, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26177893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/pseuds/tillyenna
Summary: I had too many ideas for this weeks weekly challenge promptSo you get five chapters with a different pairing for each chapter.Prompt was:"Just please be my friend right now and not the guy I confessed my love to."
Relationships: Duncan Keith/Brent Seabrook, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews, Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews, Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick, Tyson Barrie/Nathan MacKinnon
Comments: 33
Kudos: 132





	1. Nate and Tys

It’s been almost a year since Nate fucked everything up, and his finger shakes as he tries to find Tyson’s contact in his phone. Time was, it was always the most recent contact during the season, but those days are long gone. He hesitates when he finds it, his mind going instantly back to the last time he’d actually spoken to Tyson.

_“You can’t go to the fucking leafs!” He’d yelled angrily._

_“I go where I’m told to,” Tyson had sighed, his head in his hands, “You can’t control it any more than I can.”_

_“But I fucking love you.” Nate had snapped, “And I don’t know how to do this without you.”_

_Tyson’s head had snapped up, staring him straight in the eye, “You are fucking kidding me.” He shook his head, “Get the fuck out of my apartment, I’ll pack by myself.”_

_“Tys…” Nate had reached out for him, “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it’s not a lie, I do love you, I’ve always loved you.”_

_“You’ve had 6 fucking years to tell me you loved me.” The look in Tyson’s eyes had been far worse than his words, heartbreak and betrayal all rolled into one, “And you’re telling me now, when there’s nothing I can do about it.” He’d shaken his head and opened the door to his apartment. “Get the fuck out of my life Nathan.”_

Nate bites his lip, and the bullet, and presses call.

Tyson picks up, and for a moment, Nate’s so surprised he can’t actually say anything at all.

“Nate?” Comes Tyson’s voice, familiar even though it’s been so long since Nate last heard it.

“Sorry,” Nate croaks out, and now he’s hearing Tyson’s voice, he can’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes, “Look, I don’t know if you’re following our games.”

“Is EJ ok?” Tyson asks, showing he clearly has been, “Because that looked fucking intentional from the cameras, and fuck, what about Grubi.” Nate can hear the stress in his voice, “And you Nate, they were gunning for you there.”

“I’m sorry.” Nate sniffs, unable to get anything else out.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I know you don’t want to talk to me anymore,” Nate sobs, “But, I just, I need my best friend right now, not the guy I confessed my love to, I need my Tys back.”

“Oh Nate,” Tyson sighs, and Nate presses the phone harder against his ear, “I never stopped being your friend, I’m sorry I’ve not been in touch this year, it’s fucking hard and I miss you all so fucking much.”

“Miss you too,” Nate sniffs, “And I don’t just mean me, everyone misses you.”

“Who are you with right now?” Tyson asks him.

“I’m in my room,” Nate confesses, “I just, I knew I was going to cry and I didn’t want any of the kids to see me like this, and EJ’s fucking hurting, and Gabe’s watching the kids and…” he can’t catch his breath all of a sudden and he’s heaving and gasping down the phone at Tyson.

“You’re ok,” Tyson’s voice is soothing and calming, “You remember the grounding exercises from therapy?”

Nate hums, “I can see five things,” he says, “I can see the curtains, and my hotel bed, and a billion fucking masks, and my shoes which I didn’t put away and my own feet,” he frowns, “I have a hole in my sock Tys.”

“Of course you fucking do,” Tyson laughs, “What can you touch?”

“I’m touching the phone, it’s warm from my skin, and I can touch the blanket on this hotel bed, which is scratchy. My sweats are soft, and my t-shirt is old and pretty worn through,” he glances down at it, it’s bright yellow, “It’s a Pens t-shirt apparently.”

“You’re a terrible brand rep.” Tyson tells him, “Now what can you hear?”

“I can hear you,” Nate tells him, “And I can hear the traffic outside, and I can hear someone’s door shutting.”

“Good,” He can hear the smile in Tyson’s voice, “What can you smell?”

“Me,” Nate laughs a little, “I showered after the game, but I’m still pretty fucking ripe, plus I can smell the industrial cleaner they use here.”

“Taste,” Tyson reminds him, “Last, what can you taste.”

“My mouthguard,” Nate tells him, there’s a way the taste of it lingers in your mouth after a game, and Tyson will know exactly what he means.

“Did you drop it on the ice?” Tyson asks.

“Yep,” Nate rolls his eyes, “Got knocked out, they were fucking brutal, I don’t know what’s changed, but Benn’s playing like he’s on the Bruins all of a sudden.”

Tyson just hums thoughtfully,

“Sorry,” Nate apologies hurriedly, “I know he’s your buddy and all.”

“He is,” Tyson agrees, “But he’ll be getting a call later, asking him what the fuck he was thinking, because that’s not like him.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Nate manages to speak, “Thanks Tys.”

“Hey, anytime,” Tyson tells him, “Look, I know I’ve been a shitty friend this year.”

“It wasn’t you,” Nate reminds him, “I was the one that confessed my love and made you uncomfortable.”

“Nate,” Tyson sighs, “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, you made me fucking angry.”

“Can I ask why?”

Tyson sighs, “I’ve loved you for years Nate, you’ve got to have known that, you’ve got to have known how I felt about you, and it felt like you were only telling me because you knew it could never come to something because I was moving across the fucking continent.”

“I didn’t,” Nate starts, “I didn’t mean it like that, I just, it just came out, you know I didn’t mean for it to.”

“I know,” Tyson sighs, “But with the way my life is right now, I can’t let myself have that,” his laugh is hollow, “Fuck, I don’t even know where I’m going to be next year, I can’t go planning a relationship.”

“I know,” Nate sighs, “Gabe did knock some sense into me eventually,” he chews on his lip as he asks, “How about a friendship though, because I’ve really fucking missed having my best friend around.”

“Ditto,” Tyson tells him, “Like, the Leaf’s are cute kids, but they’re nothing compared to you lot.” There’s a pause, before he adds, “And you know there’s no replacing you in my life, whatever team I’m on.”

“Good,” Nate can’t help but feel smug about that one, “Let’s stop doing the stupid not talking to each other thing.”

“Let’s.” Tyson agrees, “Now get off your ass and take me to talk to EJ, because I’m worried about my best D-buddy.”

“Pssshhh,” Nate laughs as he stands up, “He’s replaced you with a bunch of eye candy.”

“Jesus,” Tyson laughs, “He really fucking has though, I’ve been looking through the roster, and it’s like the D got pretty all of a sudden.”

Nate’s still laughing and joking when he appears in EJ’s room, Gabe is sat on the end of the bed, EJ’s sat in the middle, with Cale and Sammy on either side of him, Gravy’s sat in an arm chair, and Josty and JT are sprawling on the floor.

“Apparently everyone’s here,” Nate laughs into the phone, “Let’s switch to face time,” he hits the button, before tossing the phone over to EJ, “Someone wants to check on you.”

“Tys!” EJ grins as the screen loads, “I am on the good fucking drugs right now, and my cute boys are giving me cuddles, honestly, it’s a pretty good party right now.”

“Is that Tys?” Josty squawks, getting up on the bed to clamber over Cale to wave down the phone, JT crowding in behind him.

Gabe shoots Nate a look, “Did he call you?”

Nate shakes his head, “I called him.”

Gabe just nods, and then pulls Nate into a one armed hug, “Good,” He presses a kiss to the side of Nate’s head, “I’m proud of you.”


	2. Nolan and Travis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a stupid chat many weeks ago on the discord chat about "no homo" being followed up with "maybe just a lil homo" and then "I mean, a smidge MORE homo?"

Nolan’s lying on his couch when it comes out, and honestly, if anyone else had their head in Travis’ lap, Travis’ hands stroking softly through their hair, rubbing behind their ears, they’d have said it too. Honestly, Nolan isn’t even the one to blame here, it’s Travis and his talented hands.

“Fuck,” he groans, “I love you so much right now.”

Travis laughs, “I know bud,” he agrees, “No homo though right?”

The phrasing makes Nolan tense up, and he cracks an eye open to look at Travis, “You get that I’m like 50% homo yeah?”

“Erm,” Travis’ hand stops moving, “You are?”

Nolan sits bolt upright, turning to his friend, “I’m bi,” he says slowly, “You know I’m into dudes yeah?”

Travis shakes his head slowly, “News to me bud,” he laughs, perhaps a little nervously to Nolan’s ears.

“You’re cool with it right?” Nolan asks, a touch of nervousness seeping into his voice.

Travis shrugs, “Like, whatever?” He ventures, but he doesn’t sound sure, and then suddenly, he’s grabbing his phone out of his pocket. “Reminder,” he says, without even looking at the screen, “My laundry needs to move to the drier.”

Nolan frowns, “Didn’t know you were doing laundry today bud.”

Travis shrugs, “Don’t tell you anything,” he suddenly lets out a bark of laughter like he’s thought of the funniest thing, “Apparently that’s mutual though.” He pockets his phone as he stands, “I’ll see you soon, ok Pats?”

Nolan’s left sat on the couch, staring at Travis’ departing back as he lets himself out.

By the time Haysie gets back from his lunch date with Beezer, Nolan’s progressed to lying on the couch, his head dangling dangerously off the side.

“Should you be doing that?” Kevin asks, “Like, with the blood in your head and all?”

“You know I’m bi yeah?” Nolan asks with a frown, sitting up.

“Um,” Kevin pauses, “I mean, I didn’t, so thanks for telling me I guess, like, it’s cool.”

“Oh,” Nolan’s frown deepens, “Kind of thought I was obvious about it.” He stares at Haysie, “Apparently Trav didn’t know either.”

Kevin only offers him a shrug, “I mean, none of us are particularly quick on the uptake.” He grins, “Did you need to talk about boy problems?”

Nolan wonders briefly if Travis inventing fake laundry to get away from him counts as boy problems, but he shakes his head anyway, “Nah,” he makes grabby hands at the shopping bag in Kevin’s hands, “Hand over those magazines, I know you’ve bought me some.”

What’s even weirder than Travis’ invented laundry, is the fact he doesn’t contact Nolan for the next three days. It wouldn’t be weird in the off season, Nolan’s 90% convinced that Travis actually leaves his phone in Philly during the off season, but during the season he’s pretty good at keeping their snap streak going with pointless shit, especially since he knows how bored Nolan’s been this year.

Of course, he has to get hit with a brain melting migraine on an off day when Kevin’s gone for a drive with a couple of the other guys and is hours away. He can’t even sit up, and whilst he’s got his meds handy, trying to swallow them dry makes him heave, and that means he needs the other meds, which he definitely needs water for and he can’t get out of bed to get it.

He swipes his way through to his emergency contacts through memory so he doesn’t have to open his eyes to do it, and thankfully, Travis picks up.

“Look Nols,” he starts, “I know it’s an off day, but can we not, like talk about this just yet.”

Nolan groans “Fuck off,” he mumbles, “Like, can you forget for like one minute that you’re the guy I accidentally confessed my love to, or came out to, or whatever, and just be my best friend again right now.”

“You ok Pats?”

“Nope,” Nolan groans, “Head is not good, Kev is gone, can you just…”

“I’m on my way,” Travis promises, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Nolan groans thankfully and just throws the phone down, trusting that Travis will end the call, and he wraps his pillow around his head and curls into a ball and waits, because when he’s like this, there’s nothing else he can do.

He either hears Travis open the door and come into the house, or he hears an elephant breaking the door down and stamping around the lounge, he’s not sure which it is, but the soft question of “Bud?” points to it being Travis.

“Water.” Nolan croaks, and he wants to be able to laugh at how he sounds like a cliché, but he can’t.

“Right here,” Travis sits down on the edge of his bed, holding out a water bottle.

Nolan lets Travis pull him up to sitting, sips on the water when Travis opens it and holds it up to his lips, takes the meds from Travis’ outstretched palm. He falls back into bed with a groan, and the next thing he knows there’s a cool pack on the back of his neck, and another on his forehead.

“Thanks.” He whispers.

“Anytime.” Travis says, and it sounds like a promise.

When the pain eases and Nolan wakes, he expects Travis to be gone, but instead he’s curled up against his back, scrolling quietly on his phone.

“Hey,” Nolan croaks, just as a way to let Travis know he’s awake.

“Welcome back,” Travis grins, “how are you doing?”

“Feel less like I’m going to die,” Nolan answers honestly, he rolls around so he’s facing Travis, “Thanks for coming to my rescue and all.”

“No problem,” Travis says, “Figured I kind of owed you after being a dick the other day.”

Nolan nods sleepily, “What the fuck was that about?” He asks, “Because if you’re a homophobic douchebag, firstly, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, and secondly, if you ever say anything mean to Hartsy, I’ll tell the entire team and they’ll all kill you.”

“I’m not a homophobe!” Travis squeaks, and then at a more normal volume, “I freaked, because, y’know,” he offers a shrug to Nolan, “Samsies.”

“What?” Nolan props himself up on his elbow, “Dude, you were the one saying no homo.”

“I was saying it on your behalf!” Travis protests, “I’m like…” he pauses to think, “Probably at least 75% homo.”

Nolan scoffs, “It’s not a fucking competition Teeks.”

“I’m being honest!” Travis splutters, “I like the dee more than the vee.”

Nolan pokes him in the ribs, “You are such a child Travis.” He frowns, and then looks up at his best friend, “Why didn’t you just say so at the time, like, why the big freak out?”

“I had you in the box!” Travis says nonsensically.

“The box?” Nolan quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Y’know,” Travis starts to look a little flustered, “The straight friend box, the one you put all of your hot straight friends in so you don’t get a crush on them or whatever. It’s the ‘don’t even think about it, he’s straight’ box.”

“You think I’m hot,” Nolan crows.

“Bud, have you met yourself?”

Nolan thinks about it, because his hair is undoubtedly greasy, and he can barely sit upright, and he’s not sure his skin doesn’t have what is frequently referred to as a ‘deathly pallor’, “Yeah, no.” He shakes his head at Travis, “I’m not the cute one here.”

Travis takes a moment to absorb the comment and then slowly turns to Nolan, “Are you flirting with me?”

Nolan shrugs, “You’re not in the box anymore are you?” He chirps.

“Fuck you.” Travis glares, “That’s my box, don’t mock it.”

For a moment, they’re both just grinning at each other, and then Travis reaches up to stroke a soft hand down the side of Nolan’s face. “Bud, am I misreading this?”

Nolan shrugs, “Dunno,” he mutters, “Tell me what you’re reading, I’ll tell you if you’re wrong.”

“Fuck you,” Travis sighs, “Making me do all the work.”

“’m sick.” Nolan smirks, “I can’t be asked to do anything.”

Travis rolls his eyes, and then closes this distance between them, pressing a soft kiss against Nolan’s lips, “I’m reading this Pats.”

“Most people read with their eyes, not their mouths,” Nolan mumbles, but he slides a hand around the back of Travis’ neck to pull him in for another kiss.

“You’re such a dick.” Travis tells him.

“You still love me,” Nolan grins, in the absolute certainty that Travis does.

“Yep,” Travis laughs, “I love you bud,” he pauses for effect, and then adds, “At least 75% homo.”


	3. Patrick and Jonny

Patrick regrets it as soon as his lips touch Jonny’s, because Jonny’s pushing him away and spluttering. “What the fuck Peeks?”

Patrick offers a shrug, “I just…” he winces, “We’re awesome together Taze, think about how much more awesome we could be but naked.” He offers a lewd grin.

“For fucks sake Patrick,” Jonny rolls his eyes, and Patrick knows he’s in trouble, because Jonny never uses his full name. “Grow the fuck up, and get out.” He pushes Patrick towards the door.

“I mean it,” Patrick insists, “Like Taze, don’t you think we could be awesome together.”

“No.” Jonny snaps, “I don’t.” He steps in, “I think you’re a child, who doesn’t know what the fuck he wants, and sure, maybe if I thought you were EVER going to grow up, I’d consider it, but I’ve known you since we were kids Patrick, and you’re still as immature as you were then.”

“Fuck you.” Patrick spits back at him, “You’re immature.” It’s not his best comeback, in fact, it’s probably his worst, because it just proves Jonny’s point.

Jonny just rolls his eyes, and shoves him out the door, “Try not to do too much damage to your liver this summer Peeks,” he tells him, “I’ll see you at conference.”

Patrick finds himself stalking down the corridor mimicking Jonny’s words “Try not to damage your liver, I’ll damage your fucking face Taze.” He snarks to himself, slamming the button for the elevator.

Jonny’s words sit with him, so when he’s invited out on a stag weekend at some cute college town, so what if he takes it out on his liver, so what if he acts immature, it’s not like Jonny doesn’t already think he’s a waste of space.

He doesn’t account for the number of camera phones.

Or the article.

His parents yell at him. Brisson calls and yells at him. Stan calls, and doesn’t yell, just tells Patrick how disappointed he is, and it’s like a stab to the fucking gut.

“I want to get away,” He tells Erica, “I want to go off grid somewhere.”

“Is anywhere even off grid anymore?” She asks.

He thinks, and then he knows what he has to do. He dials Jonny’s number on his phone.

“Wondered when this would happen.” Jonny says dryly, and Patrick knows instantly that he’s seen the article.

“Please,” Patrick begs, “Don’t be that guy right now Jonny,” he says, “Just please be my best friend right now, and not the guy I confessed my love to.”

Jonny sighs, but clearly bites his tongue, “What Peeks, because I’m packing for the cabin.”

“I know,” Patrick says softly, “You got room for a small one up there?”

Jonny huffs out a laugh, “I thought you said it was boring, there’s no wifi.”

“I know.” Patrick repeats, “Jon,” he beseeches him, “Please.”

“Fine.” Jonny huffs, “I’m leaving on Friday, if you’re not in Winnipeg by then, I’m leaving you behind.”

“I love you.” Patrick blurts out.

“Don’t make me change my mind.” Jonny warns him.

Patrick’s on the first flight to Winnipeg, it’s fucking awful flying, because of course people recognise him, even with his cap pulled down low, and there are people snapping pictures of him everywhere and he hates it, he hates that this is his life now. He has to do a layover to get to Winnipeg, and it’s the first time in his life he’s thought about buying a private jet – they can’t be that expsenive can they? So he ends up wasting most of his time on the layover googling private jets and charter flights.

He doesn’t drink on the plane. It’s not like he’s sworn never to drink again, but getting pictured drinking in public doesn’t seem sensible, and whilst he’s pretty certain no-one is going to snap pictures of him sat on a plane, he also doesn’t want to take any chances.

He gets a cab from the airport to Jonny’s house, because he’s pretty certain that Jonny is pissed enough at him that he wouldn’t come and pick him up, plus he doesn’t want to rent a car to leave it at Jonny’s while they head to the cabin. Still, the first cab he tries to engage, the driver refuses to take him, joking about “not wanting to get punched” and by the time he’s sat in the back of the second cab and seethed his way to Jonny’s house he hates Canada, hates the fact that everyone is a hockey fan, and hates everything in the world.

“Peeks.” Jonny opens the door, looking sweaty and dishevelled, so clearly mid workout, “You could have said, I’d have come and got you from the airport.”

Patrick shrugs and shoulders his way past him to get into the house, “Not on you to have to go round picking up fuckups.”

“Oh,” Jonny says softly, and then steps forward, wrapping his arms around Patrick and holding him close, “Peeks, it’s ok.”

Patrick takes a moment just to breathe, because sure, Jonny stinks a little, he’s sweaty and warm, but he also smells like Jonny, and that’s as good as coming home to Patrick. He buries his face in Jonny’s neck, and then, when he can feel the tears building up in his eyes, thumps Jonny once on the back and straightens up, sniffing and brushing the tears away. “Thanks.” He says gruffly, “For y’know, letting me tag along.”

“No problem,” Jonny says, and the look on his face makes Patrick feel faintly sick.

“Look,” he snaps, harsher than he means to, “I get that you pity me right now, but if you could be less obvious about it, I’d fucking appreciate it.”

“Oh for fucks sake.” Jonny rolls his eyes, “Fine, you know what, go dump your shit in the spare room, I’ll finish my workout.”

And just like that, they’re fighting again, which wasn’t what Patrick had wanted, but at least it’s better than Jonny pitying him for being the fuckup that Jonny had always told him he was.

They leave for the cabin early the next morning, so early that Patrick’s barely away, and Jonny’s only ever awake at this time for journeying up to the cabin. Still, he shoves two travel mugs of coffee into the cup holders, and doesn’t complain when Patrick snuggles up under his thick winter coat to sleep a little more for the start of the journey.

It’s easier to breath by the lake, which makes no sense, because air is air wherever you are, and Patrick fucking grew up next to a Lake, a fucking Great Lake, not a tiny manitobon mini-lake, which is where Toews keeps his cabin, but still, it’s nice, relaxing.

Jonny’s different too, more relaxed, offering Patrick a beer their first night as they sit out on the deck and watch the sun set over the lake.

“Sure you want to encourage me drinking?” Patrick snarks.

Jonny just huffs a little, “Not got enough with us to get you that drunk, even if you drank it all in one day.” He points out, and then with a sigh, knocks their knees together gently, “Peeks, I’m not mad at you.”

“You sure seem it.” Patrick says, and then softer, “You should be. I mean, I’m a little bit mad at me.”

“I’m mad at the assholes who call themselves your friends but who let you get that fucking wasted.”

“I was pretty determined.” Patrick says with a sigh, he risks a sidelong glance at Jonny, “I was trying to show you what immature really meant.”

Jonny snorts into his beer, “You sure as fuck did that Peeksy.”

“And I might have lost my fucking career over it.”

“You won’t have,” Jonny says, suddenly so earnest that it sounds like a promise he can make, “You’re a fucking superstar, and sure, if you were some fourth line nobody then that kind of behaviour would mean you were headed for the A, but you’re not,” he reaches over and squeezes Patrick’s leg, “You’re Patrick fucking Kane, don’t you ever forget that.”

Patrick can’t help but let out a hollow laugh, “It’s not like it matters.” He bites his lip, “I know I’m not good enough for you Taze,” he says, refusing to meet Jonny’s eye, “I’ve always known I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“I never said that.” Jonny says, serious and quiet, “I never said you weren’t good enough. I said you weren’t mature enough, and yeah, good job, you kind of proved me right there.”

“Same difference.” Patrick pouts.

“Not really,” Jonny nudges him again with his knee, “Because you’re going to keep getting more mature, or at least, I’m kind of hoping you will.”

Patrick frowns, “You made your no pretty clear Taze,” he says sadly, “I’m just taking a while to get over it.”

“I was scared.” Jonny tells him, voice barely above a whisper, “And I’ve never seen you be serious about anyone, ever.”

“Nobody’s serious compared to you.” Patrick jokes, and then risks look at Jonny, “But you do want this? Us?”

Jonny shrugs, “I mean yes,” He glances over at Patrick, “Obviously yes, but it would have to be for real, not just fucking around, I can’t do that.”

“I know.” Patrick stares at him like an idiot, because of course he knows what Jonny’s like.

“Just,” Jonny face seems marred in a permanent frown, “Give me time ok Peeks?”

“So not yet?” Patrick can’t help but feel it like another rejection, but it settles a little lighter than the previous one.

Jonny nods, taking a swig of his beer, and sits back in his chair, glancing over at Patrick before agreeing with a nod, “Not no, just not yet.”


	4. Duncan and Brent

In Duncan’s defense, he’d been beyond drunk when he’d said it. He’d sobered up pretty quickly afterwards, and he’d hoped that he’d been drunk enough that he wouldn’t have to remember it, but it’s been burnt into his mind. How he’d leaned into Seabs and told him he’d loved him, and Seabs had laughed and said it back, and Duncs in all his drunken stupidity had told him that no, Seabs didn’t mean it in the same way he meant it, that Duncs was IN love with him.

That had been four days ago, and his best friend hasn’t spoken to him since.

He’s so deep in his thoughts about it that he doesn’t notice Kelly snapping at him until she’s right in front of his face.

“What?” He frowns.

“Oh my god!” Kelly screams, “Again? You’re always fucking doing this Duncan – it’s like my world doesn’t even matter to you.”

He offers a shrug, because honestly, what even is there in her world to matter, “Seabs isn’t talking to me right now.” He gives as an explanation.

“I honestly don’t give a shit,” Kelly snaps, “You haven’t heard a fucking word I’ve said.”

“He hasn’t spoken to me for four days.”

“Oh Jesus christ. Get the fuck out.”

He frowns, looking up at her, “This is my house?”

She screams at him, a scream of pure frustration, not seeming to care that it wakes Colton and he starts crying.

He stands to go and get his son, but she shoves him away, storming off to grab the baby. “I mean it Duncan,” she says when she reappears, “I want you out, I need some space right now.”

“What do you mean space?” He asks.

“I mean, I need some space to work out if I really want to stay married to a man who doesn’t fucking hear anything I say. Get the fuck out.”

She’s pissed, and honestly, she’s not his main focus. “If I go, will you stop screaming?”

“Yes!” She yells, “Get out.”

He bends down to press a kiss to Colton’s head, “Daddy’s only going so Mommy is nice and calm for you,” he says softly, which earns him another frustrated groan from Kelly.

He doesn’t even think about it when he drives, just parks up without thinking, and it isn’t until he’s rung the bell that he suddenly realises that Seabs isn’t talking to him.

“Duncs?” Brent opens the door, confusion on his face

“Look,” Duncs doesn’t want him to think he’s here to talk more about his stupid confession, “Just please be my best friend right now, and not the guy I confessed my love to.”

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Seabs hisses, and then frowns, “Why are you even here?”

“Kelly kicked me out.” Duncs shrugs, “She’s pissed because I don’t listen or something like that.”

Seabs snorts at him, “Dude, if you don’t know why she’s pissed at you then you definitely don’t listen.” He steps aside, showing Duncs in, “Just, come in, ok?” He pauses as Duncs steps past him however and mutters, “But don’t fucking mention the other thing in front of Dayna ok?”

Duncs frowns, “What other thing.”

“Christ,” Seabs rolls his eyes, “You are such a fucking space cadet Duncs.” He leads him through to the main room, where Dayna is balancing a bowl of ice cream on her bump. “Duncsy is gonna stay here tonight, Kelly kicked him out.”

Dayna winces, “Dunc,” she says sympathetically, “Come sit next to me and Brent can grab an extra bowl of ice cream.”

“Oh really,” Seabs grins, “So Duncs gets to spare your extra special ice cream.”

“Hey,” Dayna grins, “If your wife kicked you out I’d let you share my ice cream.”

“That makes no fucking sense!” Seabs mutters, but wonders off to get ice cream.

Duncs finds himself leaning against Dayna as she spoons a mouthful of her own ice cream into his mouth. “I don’t even know what I did wrong.” He mutters mournfully.

“Didn’t she say?”

He shrugs, “She did,” he feels a little sheepish as he admits, “I wasn’t exactly listening.”

Dayna snorts, “Oh Duncsy,” she ruffles his hair, “You’re a special boy.”

Seabs comes back and puts a bowl of icecream in Duncs’ lap, “I see how it is,” he teases good naturedly, sitting down on the other side of Dayna, “You come into my house, you steal my ice cream, you cuddle my wife.”

“Hey,” Dayna flicks him on the forehead, “Two of you here means I get double the foot rubs right?”

Duncs frowns, “Why would you want foot rubs?” he asks, “You don’t even skate.”

That causes matching groans from both Brent and Dayna, “I’m beginning to see why you’re having to stay here bud,” Seabs tells him.

Staying with Seabs is actually better than he’d imagined, because he gets Seabs bringing him coffee first thing in the morning while he’s still in bed and they get to carpool to the rink together.

Still, on the third day, Seabs tells him he needs to go home.

“Why?” Duncs frowns, he’s sat on the bed in the guest room, Seabs is pacing, “I like living with you.”

“You fucking know why!” Seabs hisses, glancing towards the door.

“Oh.” Duncs bites his lip, “It’s because I said I loved you isn’t it. Like, I can’t stop it, but I can not be weird about it.”

“Fuck,” Seabs looks like he’s physically pained by it, “I just…” he strides over to the door and shuts it firmly, before sitting down on the bed next to Duncs, “We can’t do this Duncs, I’m married, you’re fucking married.”

“Barely,” Duncs mutters, “She kept getting mad because I spent all my time thinking about you.”

Seabs rolls his eyes, wrapping an arm around Duncs, “I mean it Duncsy, however I feel about you I don’t want to fuck up things with Dayna.”

“That’s fair.” Duncs nods, “Dayna’s awesome.” He doesn’t mention how Kelly isn’t awesome.

“And I don’t think it’s fair,” Seabs carries on, “You living here, loving me, knowing I’m loving you back, and she’s just… in the dark.” He frowns, “It feels wrong.”

Duncs stares at him for a moment, “Can we go back to the you loving me back thing for a moment.”

“Dude!” Seabs snorts, “Like that was ever in question.”

“I didn’t realise.” Duncs says, because if he’d realised that, maybe he wouldn’t have been so focused on finding happiness with someone else.

“That’s because you’re barely on this planet,” Seabs says fondly, squeezing him tightly, “But I mean it, we can’t carry on like this. Because I do love you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love my wife.”

Duncs shrugs, “Tell her.” He says, “Tell her and if she throws me out too, then ok, whatever.”

Seabs frowns, “And if she throws me out too?”

Duncs shoots him a cheeky grin, “We buy a little house together, just you and me.”

“It’s not that simple Duncan,” Seabs shakes his head, but he does eventually promise to talk things over with Dayna that evening.

Duncs thought it would be awkward sitting alone in the guest room, knowing that Dayna and Brent were talking about him, but it’s nothing compared to Dayna marching into the room without pausing to knock, finger outstretched.

“You love him.” She says, and then, without waiting for a response, points to her husband, “And he loves you.”

“Erm, yes?” Duncs says hesitantly.

“And Kelly didn’t realise?” She questions, “Because I’ve known that for as long as I’ve known the pair of you.”

“What?” Duncs squeaks, because he’s not sure even he’s known it that long.

“I just assumed you only hooked up on the road.”

“We don’t hook up!” Seabs assures here, “I wouldn’t cheat on you love.”

“It’s not cheating…” she frowns, “It’s just Duncsy.”

Duncs can’t help but blush at that.

“But if you’re asking for my blessing,” she turns to her husband and presses a soft kiss to his lips, “One, I already thought you guys were an item, two, I’ve always known I come second in your life to Duncs, that’s just the way it is, and finally, three, I’m eight months pregnant and I’d really like to sleep on my own in bed so I can sprawl as much as I fucking want, so I suggest you sleep in here with Duncsy tonight. Ok?”

“Oh,” Seabs says softly.

“Love you too Duncs,” Dayna says with a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she leaves, “Now don’t wake me up with the headboard banging ok?”

“Your wife is the best.” Duncs murmurs in hushed reverence.

“I told her,” Seabs still seems shell shocked, “And she mostly responded with ‘I know’.”

Duncs shifts over on the bed, so he’s sat on one side, not in the middle, “You climbing in?”

“Fuck,” Seabs shakes his head, sliding into bed beside Duncs, “How the fuck did I get so fucking lucky?”


	5. Mitch and Auston

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no angst in this one, just PURE FLUFF

Mitch stands in front of his closet, he’s paralysed with indecision. Normally, he’d call Auston right now, but Auston’s the last person he can call given the situation. He wastes at least ten minutes staring at his phone trying to work out who he can call before he caves and calls Auston anyway.

“Aus,”

“Mouse.” Mitch can hear the smile coming through the end of the phone.

“Look, can you just please be my best friend right now, and not the guy I confessed my love to.”

“Erm,” Auston sounds hesitant and confused, “Ok,” he agrees.

“Look,” Mitch sighs, running a hand through his hair, “In this hypothetical situation, your best friend Mitchy is about to go on a date with the guy he confessed his feelings to and he doesn’t have a fucking clue what to wear.”

Auston snorts with laughter, “Mouse, babe,” he says softly, “You’ll look great whatever you wear.”

“No,” Mitch sighs, “I told you I needed friend advice right now, remember?”

Auston pauses, and Mitch can just imagine him rolling his eyes at the phone, “Fine, the pale jeans, you know, the ones you have to like jump your way into.”

Mitch grins, grabbing them out of the closet, “And on top?”

“Wear one of my shirts,” Auston grins, “This mystery date of your is sure to like it when you wear my cothes.”

Mitch snorts this time, “Love you,” he says, easy and free like every time he’s said it since the first time.

“Love you too,” Auston replies, “Now get dressed, I’m picking you up in twenty.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr me is [@princesstillyenna](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/princesstillyenna)


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